Author's Note: I hope you readers are liking this so far. I got interested in the Real Ghostbusters fandom a year ago and watching it helped through the pandemic and other life issues. I couldn't shake this fanfic idea and another one that I plan to do later for timeline's sake. Please leave a review and enjoy. :)
(All characters, places, and objects from The Real Ghostbusters do not belong to me. They belong to Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis and Columbia Pictures. Television. OC's are only mine!)
Chapter Three
The Chance Encounter
Diners had an atmosphere that Claire Teague always loved: nostalgic, comfortable, and cheering. Most restaurants she went to throughout her life were diners because they were inexpensive for her family. It was no surprise that she found herself inside one to avoid the weather. Thursday had started off with rain, which she loved, but as the day progressed, it became stormy. When Claire left work, thunder shook the sky, rain pelted violently and the wind was strong. She'd had a hard time flagging down a cab and she knew that getting too dangerous for her to walk home. She'd stay inside for a while until it grew less turbulent. The diner maintained its own sound of rattling dishes, conversing customers and the muzak playing.
After ordering a simple sandwich and 7up, Claire dug through her purse and found her small paperback of The Night Glow. The dark blue ribbon for a bookmark dangled from the bottom pages. This would be a better evening compared to yesterday's which included the ESP test and…him.
"At least I've can get to the next chapter," she said to herself.
"Well, well," she heard a familiar voice, "if it isn't Miss Teague or should I say Claire-voyance?"
Claire grew hot in the face and cringed the moment she recognized the voice. She twisted around in the booth to see Peter staring back with a mischievous grin. Claire grew irritated. Why was that "soon-to-be-doctor" here? Peter had been slumped back with his legs across the booth while reading a book. Claire didn't know how she didn't notice him when she first sat down.
"We didn't complete the test," Peter said flirtatiously. "Maybe you'd want a second round?"
"No thank you," answered Claire firmly. "I don't interact with cheaters."
"Cheaters?" echoed Peter. He eyed Claire suspiciously. No, there was no way. She couldn't have figured it out. "Are you accusing me of something Claire?" he asked playfully.
"Yes," huffed Claire. She was in no mood to be polite with him. She didn't bother making eye contact. "You weren't being consistent. Every time Steven answered he got shocked whether you turned the card around for him or not. I guessed all of them "right," but you never showed me. I would've expected you to flip one of those cards around for me to see that I was right. Your friend said it was all chance so what are the chances I would get all of them?"
"You didn't do all of them," Peter interjected. He didn't sound worried by her point.
"Not when it's clear that you lied! I bet you're doing all this just to meet women; you flatter them by claiming they were right with their guesses and they fall for your "charm." Well, I'm not charmed!" Claire looked critically from the corner of her eye to him. "Am I correct in that guess?"
"I know when I'm cornered," Peter sighed in defeat after a long pause. "You guessed right. You're a smart volunteer."
"I shouldn't have volunteered for your stunt," Claire said firmly. "I knew it was too strange to be real."
"If that's what you thought why'd you volunteer?" He flinched to see Claire stand up and lean over him. He was even more surprised with how her voice was wavered.
"I was kind of curious about you. I don't even know why-." She huffed when Peter smiled with satisfaction, but she didn't stop. "Your conclusion for me is that I had the talent for clairvoyance? Well, I've come to my conclusions: You're a skunk."
"And you're a fox," Peter said coolly with a wink. He felt gratification to see Claire blush at his compliment even if she was annoyed. He really meant it as that she was attractive and hoped that it'd help her feel better. "You must have some talent since you're reading that same book I am," he added.
Claire realized he had a copy of The Night Glow by Dewey Lamort and it was bookmarked with a torn strip of notebook paper. The edges were dog-eared, and the cover had a different illustration from her copy. It looked like it came from a secondhand store. She pressed her lips together.
"That just happens to be chance," she said dryly, "just like how we're in the same diner."
"Fate, luck or karma we've met for some reason," Peter said.
Claire was somebody who believed things happened for a reason, but Peter didn't count to her. She'd have been fine to have only known Ray while never meeting him. She sighed exasperatingly and returned to her seat. That was the end of the conversation for her.
"You really weren't okay," Peter suddenly said. "That one question spooked you, didn't it?"
"So now you're clairvoyant in figuring out how I feel?" said Claire sharply. Her emotions were getting the better of her and she leaned more onto the table with her book. She didn't want to look at him again. She was certain if she said another thing, she'd say something regretful.
"You said you didn't know what came over you, but you touched your face when you said so." Peter twisted around in the booth to see her better. "You didn't look me in the eye either. Two signs of lying. You did know, but didn't want to say it right?" He sounded genuine compared to the previous meetings.
Claire was flushed. She was embarrassed for even reacting that way because it shouldn't be a huge deal. Why did a bad experience have to intimidate her like that? Why did it have to become a chain link of many experiences from the past decade of her life? She tried focusing on the pages in her book, but she couldn't.
"I wouldn't have asked that if I knew it'd bother you," Peter continued humbly, "but then again you can probably tell I'm not a mind reader."
Claire felt a smile sneak up, but she bit her inner cheek. She was hoping the waitress would come back soon with her meal. Neither spoke for another minute. Claire thought that was the end of it…until she opened her mouth and said, "Maybe you should have a doctorate in something else."
"How'd you know?" Peter said turning back around. He sounded pleased.
"I really don't know why I said that!" stated Claire who was in disbelief over her answer. "Don't say I have clairvoyance. I'm serious!"
"I'm serious too," said Peter. "I'm getting a PhD in Psychology too."
"Then you shouldn't dabble in Parapsychology and focus on Psychology." Claire wasn't reading after all but staring at the empty booth before her.
"I'm doing both," boasted Peter. He could see Claire give the tiniest glance from the corner of her eye. "The parapsychology program was offered at Columbia and it's still undiscovered territory."
"So, you can get away with any results and have no consequences." Claire's tone was cold.
"You sure you're not telepathic?" Peter teased. His right arm draped over the booth and he sat up on his heels. "Seriously though, I've wanted that PhD for a long time."
"If you really want that PhD then maybe start taking those tests seriously."
"You think I don't?"
"You seem more serious about swindling your way. Maybe you should quit the PhD and go fulltime being a conartist. It seems to be the only thing you're capable of and you're unscrupulous enough to-" Claire was stunned with horror when she realized what she'd said. She swallowed and turned red. "I meant-I didn't-I…" She was tongue-tied with shame. Now she really didn't want to look at Peter. When he didn't respond, she felt worse.
She turned to her left to face him, but quickly switched to her right. She was a little surprised to see how Peter didn't look offended. She met his relaxed eyes. She remembered how she noticed his eyes when she first met him. They were an emerald green; such a rare, but beautiful eye color. She was about to apologize when Peter held a hand up.
"No need to apologize," he said. "I've heard worse." He got up from the booth and shoved the small book in his jacket. "Take care of yourself Miss Teague." He winked, gave a playful wave and left.
Claire watched him in shock. When he was gone, she glanced back to his table and noticed there was an empty coffee cup and tip under the saucer. She slumped into her booth and sighed. Even if he said she didn't have to apologize, she felt awful. She could get snappy when emotional, but she never wanted to hurt people. She could hear familiar words ringing in her head "Looks like quitting is the only thing you're capable of!" For a moment, she remembered that pain and the critical eyes staring her down. What hurt more was that it wasn't a stranger or even a friend who told her that: it was her own father. The last thing Claire Teague would've wanted was to be like him.
It wasn't long until Claire had her sandwich and as she chewed, she went into thought. What did Peter mean he'd heard worse? Did someone tell him he shouldn't get a PhD? Did someone even tell him similar words like her dad did to her? She didn't appreciate how he'd clearly been cheating and most likely was trying to get a date out of her. So yes, he was a skunk, but not the worst of all.
What did happen was that Claire kept thinking about it even when she went home and dozed off. By the time it was Friday morning, and she was heading back for work, she decided to have closure. Maybe other people would say it was pointless, but she didn't care. Besides, she liked Ray and they were already becoming friends. If Ray was friends with Peter, it was best to have some peace and part ways.
She planned to check Weaver Hall after work and see if Peter was there. After the storm from yesterday, New York City was overcast, and Claire hoped there'd be pleasant rain showers. When she arrived at Weaver Hall, she was a little puzzled to find a box labeled PKE outside Egon's office. The door was already open, and Ray was rolling up some blueprints. Seeing Ray made her feel calmer, and she smiled back the moment he greeted her.
"Hi Claire! You're just in time!"
"For what?" she asked amusingly.
"Just in time to be the first outside witness to our experiment!" Ray held up an unrolled blueprint for her and beamed with excitement. It was a sketch of some handheld device with a little screen. "It's a PKE meter! Egon and I are going to find some parts to build it!"
"Very nice Ray," said Claire even though she didn't understand Egon's writing. "Does it have something to do with the parapsychology?"
"It's a tool that will track down ghosts. Egon's been working on it for the past few weeks and we're going to search for parts tonight. Oh, and if we get it built fast enough, we'll try ghost hunting tomorrow!"
"You may want to be more realistic on the time," Claire said kindly. "Even if you're talented, you don't want to rush it."
"I won't," laughed Ray. "I just can't wait! Egon and I have talked about this for months. Did you want to come with us?"
"Sorry Ray, I'm actually here for something else. Do you know…" Claire paused. She really hoped Ray didn't think the worst of her if Peter told him about last evening. "Is Peter coming with you?"
"No," Ray answered with a head shake. "He wasn't interested. I don't know what he's up to tonight." He placed the PKE meter blueprint into a fiberboard tube. He suddenly lit up with realization. "Oh, hey that's right! You volunteered for the ESP test. How'd that go?"
"He didn't tell you?" Claire asked with surprise. When Ray shook his head again, she became more surprised. She expected Peter to have spilled the details of the test. Even more, she was certain he'd have snarky comments about her after yesterday and tell Ray what a bad influence she'd be on him. "Well, the test was okay," she finally said. "I can see what you meant by it needing more tests to be credible."
"That's true, but that's okay. All the greats needed to keeping testing to see what would work and what wouldn't. If the PKE meter doesn't work at first, we'll just try again." Ray's optimism helped Claire to smile a little, but it didn't erase the guilt she felt.
"Listen," she said seriously. "I don't know if Peter mentioned anything, but I met him at a diner yesterday and I said some things that I regret. I just wanted to talk to him and be on good terms."
"Like what?" asked Ray. He didn't seem happy, but he wasn't glaring at her.
"I was annoyed at him and I said he should take his work seriously. Then I said he'd be a better conartist than psychologist since he's unscrupulous. I didn't mean it, but I was wondering if he said anything about-well about what I said."
"He didn't say anything," said Ray. "I thought something was wrong, but when I asked, he just said he was tired." He noticed Claire looked worried. "But that's sort of his usual response anyway," he added to not make her feel too bad. "He said that thousands of times last semester and he's always catching up on sleep."
"Usual saying or not, I still want to apologize." Claire sat down in one of the metal chairs like she did before. "I really didn't mean it Ray. That's not like me."
"I know." Ray sat next to her. His brown eyes were kind and reassuring. He didn't know Claire for long, but he understood. "To be honest, I've been worried about him lately. He's been working overtime as a busboy and he's worried about finances. He told me last week that the used books for classes are more expensive than he thought. He does take psychology seriously. He doesn't say everything that's bothering him, but I can tell."
"Does his family offer to help?"
"I don't know too much about Peter's family. His mom passed away, but he hasn't fully told me. He mentioned something about being interested in psychology because of grief. From what I do know, his dad is a conartist and Peter's always upset at having to help him get out of trouble."
"I really should've kept my mouth shut," Claire sighed embarrassingly. It was quiet for a minute and Ray got up to get a spiral notebook with notes. Claire thought of something else and decided it'd be best to hear it from Ray. "Is he a good friend to you?"
"Sure," said Ray with another grin. "Trust me, Claire. I know he can be lazy and even rude, but he's always looked out for me. I never had a friend that stuck around with me like he did. Not to mention, he introduced me to Egon and now we're good friends."
"I bet you could find something good in anybody," Claire chuckled. "Would it be okay if I wait a little while and see if Peter arrives?"
"Sure thing," said Ray as he went out and tucked the notebook in the box. "If he doesn't show up, just leave a note for me and I'll let him know you wanted to see him."
After bidding goodbye, Ray left with his box and blueprints. Claire looked for a notepad in her purse. She prepared a note just to be ready. She didn't want to stay for too long since she promised she'd call her family that night and New York had a different time zone from her home state. She tapped her fingers against the paper in thought. She kept staring at the wooden box and found herself rethinking. There was a new idea brewing in her mind.
About fifteen minutes later, Peter showed up. He had a small stack of books tucked within his arm and the copy of Nightglow was sticking out between them. His eyes widened upon seeing Claire, but instantly relaxed.
"Back for another round of verbal sparring?" he said.
"I'm here to apologize," Claire said as she stood.
"Hey, don't worry about it," Peter said as he went around his desk. "What you said was no big deal."
"Even though I was angry I shouldn't-" Claire had prepared herself to give a full explanation, but it looked like Peter wasn't having it.
"Shouldn't what? Call me out for being a skunk like I deserved since you figured out what I was doing?"
"Even if that's so I have a feeling that I still hurt you. I talked a little with Ray before you showed up and he mentioned your dad is a conartist. If I'd known, I wouldn't have gone that far. That's never my intent no matter how upset I feel. I'm sorry for what I've said."
Peter eyed her like the first time: the pleated skirt, silky blouse and belt defined her hourglass shape. Her eyes were beautiful and looked sympathetic. What a funny woman: she wanted to apologize?
"Then we'll call it fair play," Peter finally said. "I accept your apology and I apologize for using you." He figured that was it and she would leave, but she sat down. "You here for something else?"
"Are you able to be honest with me for anything?" she inquired.
"Like what?"
"I want to do the test again on the condition that you're honest. So, if I get a card wrong, I expect shocks." When Peter looked dumbfounded at her request, Claire exhaled and gave her explanation. "I met with Ray before you showed up and he talked a little about you. He said you do take psychology seriously and you've been working overtime with your job-"
"Ray," Peter sighed in exasperation. "He and his big heart."
"I know this sounds stupid," continued Claire, "but you should try this test for real, not for fake results, and see what happens. Maybe you need someone who knows your scheme, so you become genuine?"
Peter smirked and leaned over his desk to look Claire right in the eyes. She didn't falter back.
"You're a weird lady," he remarked. "What're you playing at? Why do you care? Is it to make yourself feel better?"
"No," Claire said steely. "I'm doing this because I know what its like for people to suddenly assume and be proved wrong. It's happened to me and if I find someone in the same position, even if I was proved wrong, I want to help them. I don't do it to make myself feel better; I do it because its humane." Yes, the apology was for him and for her, but helping him wasn't to benefit herself.
Peter slipped back into his chair and folded his arms. Claire waited for him. He looked like he was trying to have a witty remark, but he seemed confused. Finally, he spoke up with a grin.
"You're weird but kind. You'd really do this even with the shocks?"
"Physically, I don't hurt easily so I can take electric shocks. So, I'll do this test again if you'll take it seriously."
"Okay then, I'll be honest and play it fair for the ESP test." He extended his hand to her with another grin, and she accepted it in a quick shake.
"I won't ask the questions again," Peter stated, "unless there's been some change in the past two days?"
"None," Claire answered. "That includes the menstruation question."
"Won't ask that again," promised Peter as he looked for the electrode rods. After Claire was attached, he shuffled the cards and held the first one up for her. "Whenever you're ready."
"Circle," she answered after a few seconds. When Peter didn't flip the card around, she frowned.
"Sorry Claire," he sighed when he finally did and revealed it was the plus sign. He dropped the card to his desk and scribbled down the result. He was about to pick up the next card when Claire stomped her foot.
"Where's the shock?" she demanded.
"That's okay," responded Peter coolly. "It's the first one so it doesn't count."
"Yes, it does," said Claire firmly. "Fair play."
"This is fair play."
"Not in this case. Now do the shock like you promised you would!"
"It doesn't count! It's just a practice round!"
"Do it!"
"Will you just-"
Claire bolted up and leaned over so she was eye level to Peter. "I have a high tolerance for pain thanks to ten years of dance lessons: blisters, sprained ankles, shin splints and back pain. I've told you I don't hurt easily. Now do it!" When Peter still hesitated, she smiled wickedly and gave a new threat. "If you don't do it, then I'll never speak to you again. I won't tell you about how I once met Dewey Lamort and how he autographed his first book for me. I won't talk about my visit Tombstone, Arizona where I watched a reenactment of the gunfight at O.K. Corral. I won't tell-"
"Alright!" Peter huffed. He ran his hands over his face. "Just…I needed a moment." He moved his fingers to the switch with guilt written all over his face. "Sorry," he added sincerely and finally kept his word.
Claire shook and clenched her teeth as the jolt of electricity ran through her. She inhaled and sat up straight. Peter was amazed. She handled it better than Steven. No, she handled it better than most. She did have a high tolerance for pain.
"You okay?" he inquired.
"I'm good," she said. "Next one?"
"Yeah, next one. You've got seventy-nine to go." Peter hoped so much she got it correct.
"Square?"
It was the circle. Once again, Claire received a shock, but she didn't seem irritated. Each time she breathed deeply and straightened up. It was like seeing a dancer stumble, but efficiently get back into their routine. Over and over, they went through the cards. Each time Claire was shocked, but not once did she yell in frustration. At last, by the thirty-seventh card, something changed.
"Wavy lines?" Claire asked after pausing to consider.
Peter's eyes lit up and he turned it over to reveal she was right. Claire was stunned.
"You really got it!" he said with excitement.
"I got it!" she squealed and bounced in her chair. "I really got it! I-" She stopped realizing how childish she must've looked, but Peter was grinning and that made her do the same. Locking eyes, they laughed, and her embarrassment faded.
Claire didn't get the next one, but that didn't discourage her or Peter. They kept going and only twice did Claire have another correct guess: plus sign and star. Despite the majority being incorrect, time seemed to fly by despite it being an hour. By the time it was over, Claire looked tired, but she kept her composure. It made Peter wonder what kind of dance lessons she took.
"You feeling okay?" he asked while taking the electrode off her.
"A little thirsty, but other than that I feel fine."
"Here Claire," he reached over his desk for a slip of paper. "If you feel any of those let me know. I'll get you something from the mini fridge."
Scribbled was the main phone number for office and a list: difficulty breathing, loss of consciousness. muscle spasms, numbness, tingling orheadache. She tucked it away into her purse. Peter went to the tiny fridge in the corner that was filled with the guys' favorite stuff.
"Crud," he sighed, "just 7up and Coca-Cola." One of his roommates had snuck into the hall last night and took the ginger ale for a party. Unfortunately, it was a common occurrence. He'd come back with a couple soda cans as payment for-as he put it-Venkman's generosity. Of course, the kinds he brought weren't Peter's favorites.
"I love 7up," Claire said brightly.
"I thought you liked Pepsi," he commented. "You had a Pepsi bottle before."
"Oh, I use old glass bottles for water," she explained. "It's a habit I picked up from one of my best friends and she loves Pepsi. We just wash them out after each use. I think one of her boyfriends who was obsessed with nature told her about it."
Peter smirked to himself thinking the boyfriend was probably a tree hugger. Claire instantly sipped her soda and relished the coolness down her throat. After the sessions, a cold drink was just what she needed. Settled down with cherry coke, Peter gave a quick look over his notes and he drew a blank. He'd never gotten that far in the test and now he was questioning Zener's idea. He rubbed his face with frustration.
"Did I do something wrong?" she inquired with concern.
"You didn't do anything wrong," said Peter. "Why'd you think you did something wrong?" Claire shrugged and he flipped through another page. "I'm not sure what to make of this."
"How so?"
"Its all random with the results," Peter sighed. "I kept thinking there'd be something more solid."
"My mom would say answers take time so maybe you just need more time to analyze this. I know I'm not a psychologist, but this advice could apply for you."
"At least I've diagnosed that you're an optimist," Peter said dryly and clicking his teeth. Claire smiled warmly and he couldn't help but smile back.
"My sister says I'm a blend of my parents; one day I'm optimistic like mom and the next I'm pessimistic like dad." There was split look of sadness in her eyes. She couldn't say it aloud, but she could at least agree on that with her sister. "Why don't you look it over for the night and maybe I can meet up with you again for discussion? As long as you respect its not a date."
"It won't be a date," said Peter. "I know when I'm not desired."
"You're more pleasant to be around when you're honest," admitted Claire. "If Ray's our friend, maybe we can be friends. I must warn you, I'm very introverted and…you seem more like a social butterfly."
"So first I'm a skunk and then I'm a butterfly," Peter said with amusement. "What're you? A zoologist?"
"Being a zoologist would be more fun than being a secretary." She paused for a quick sip and decided it was the right moment to ask him her assumption. "Is that the first time you've felt guilty for shocking someone?"
"You are clairvoyant," he kidded. "Yeah, it's the first time I've ever shocked a lady so of course I feel bad. You're the only one I can imagine who would do this."
"Like I said, high tolerance for pain."
"You still dance?"
"Not like I used to…" Claire didn't really want to delve into her reasons. "I was wondering something else. You study psychology, but you're also studying parapsychology. Why're you studying both?"
She was surprised to see Peter's eyes look sad as if bad memories were coming to him. She suddenly felt sorry for asking and was about to apologize when Peter cleared his throat.
"It's a long story, but I was interested in psychology during high school. You can blame Ray for getting me a little interested in the parapsychology but meeting women out of it makes a good bonus."
"At least now you're being honest. I'm sure you were thrilled to have some stupid lady like me to get involved."
"You're not stupid if you were able to identify a skunk," he said with another smile. "Really, you're the first one I've tested to realize that. You're being too hard on yourself."
"I wasn't trying to expose you. I was only frustrated."
"Hey, even though you exposed me, I'm glad it was by you."
Claire felt the tiniest blush. Peter had some arrogance about him, but there was a hidden sweetness. She felt better talking to him compared to the previous days. She decided she had a new conclusion of Peter; a man full of wit and sarcasm, but had a soft side buried deep down. That didn't mean she was willing to tell him her life story; she wasn't even ready to tell Ray either.
"I don't know if its because of you, but the time for the test went by fast," Peter added. "Can't believe its eight already."
"Oh no!" gasped Claire. "It's 8 o'clock? Sorry Peter, but I have to get back home." She scrambled from her chair and collected her purse.
"I didn't mean to keep you this long," apologized Peter.
"No. It's not that. I promised Mom I'd call her around this time for some birthday plans. She's in Indiana; different time zone. I've need to get a cab and-"
"Hey, wait, I'll walk you out until you get a cab."
Claire was moved by his offer. She knew how to avoid danger in New York City, but the chivalry was appreciated. The night sky was starless and moonless. The only light was from the lampposts along the college pathway. The campus was quiet except for a couple of students passing by and the swish of 7up in Claire's soda can as she walked.
"Did you still want to meet for the results?" Peter asked.
"I'd like that," Claire answered. "I have plans for tomorrow, but maybe we could meet on Sunday?"
"Sunday's perfect," Peter agreed. "How about the diner we were in yesterday? They have lemon meringue pie specials on Sundays."
"At twelve o'clock so we can have lunch besides dessert?" Claire suggested.
"Nothing wrong with just desserts," Peter teased. "Okay but really, twelve is it."
By then, they were approaching at the curb. The cars sped by with their headlights glaring. Claire cautiously looked up the street for the next cab. However, she turned back to Peter and politely nodded to him.
"Thank you for the drink," she said.
"No Claire," Peter said kindly. "Thank you. You're a gem for doing that test."
"I'm glad to help," she said back. "Have a good night." She raised a hand up and called for a cab. One sharply pulled up and she left with a quick wave back to Peter.
"She's a dancer huh?" he said to himself as he walked back for Weaver Hall. "That explains her gorgeous legs."
He wasn't anywhere close to where he'd usually be after having a pretty woman take the ESP test, but he didn't mind. There was something else besides the physical attraction now; a curiosity about who she was and that there was more than he thought. He wasn't sure if she attended college, but she was wise enough to guess his cheating. It was hard to not be impressed by that. None the less, she was still guarded, and it'd probably take a long time to really know her. Even if they weren't meeting on a date, he was looking forward to their next encounter.